Alex, We Hardly Knew Ye
by mccoylover
Summary: A Liz,Don, Liv story soon after Zapata's attempted hit on Alex. Slight mothership crossover, focus is on Liz and Don and her guilt when Alex is thought to be dead.
1. Chapter 1

Author: mccoylover 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3

_A story shortly after the 'death' of Alex Cabot. SVU regulars, I do watch SVU, but not as much as the mothership. If I blew it on any essential facts, PLEASE let me know, so I can edit them out. Some mentions of the Cabot 'death ep., as well as 'Juvenile'. As always with my stuff, just accept my fantasy regarding Donnelly's ex as just that and **not **canon!_

"…after the service, be sure to have Serena," Arthur Branch began as the driver opened the passengers side door for Branch and his senior EADA.

"Arthur, wait!"

Branch stood up right, both men staring at the tall blonde dashing towards them.

"Elizabeth, I thought you wanted to meet us at the church after you -"

"He's gone. That son of a bitch is…," she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. "I just called Zapata's lawyer. He told me-"

Branch stepped aside, motioning for McCoy to enter the vehicle.

"I know. I got the call from justice right before we left the office. Get in and I'll explain on the way."

Donnelly gave him a look as she complied, finding herself sitting between the two most powerful men in the New York county District Attorney's office.

"I'm so sorry Liz, "McCoy said, as he made room for the woman dressed in a black Chanel suit and matching silk blouse. He knew what was coming wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Thank you Jack," she said turning her attention to Branch as the door closed. "All right, Arthur. We're off the street. No nosy reporter can hear any of this," she said accusingly. "What song and dance did the justice department give you to convince you, to let them take the killer of one of your ADA's out of your jurisdiction?"

"Liz, I know you're upset. Alexandra's death hit all of us hard-"

"It wasn't just a 'death' Arthur, it was an assassination. On a New York street. Ordered by a two bit drug lord that didn't like the fact a_ woman_ was going get justice for the mistress he murdered, because she took issue with his performance in bed," Donnelly snapped.

"How Liz-"

"Don't patronize me Arthur. The hit took place in New York county. The victim was a New York county Assistant District Attorney. It's only decent to prosecute the case in your jurisdiction. It's only fitting that _another_ woman is lead prosecutor on the case that gets Zapata the needle."

Branch shook his head, looking away from the eyes of the Bureau Chief for the sex crimes unit of the New York county DA's office.

"It's out of my hands, Liz. The attorney general himself called," Branch replied. "Zapata can lead them to some of the main suppliers of cocaine in this country-"

"At the expense of justice for a murder victim - no make that two murder victims, that we know of," she said coldly. "If Zapata had hit a federal prosecutor, justice would change their tune in a heart beat."

"You're probably right," Branch admitted. "But it wasn't a federal prosecutor. Even if we can't prosecute him for Alex's murder, Zapata will be off the streets. His drug cartel shut down. The feds know how to do their jobs. Your forgetting the man had a federal agent killed, as well. They will prosecute him just as well as if we-"

"No one at justice would handle this case as well as I would have," Donnelly countered coldy.

McCoy looked sharply at his colleague.

"Liz, even if Zapata stayed our jurisdiction, you can't seriously think Arthur would have let you handle the case? Alex Cabot was one of your top prosecutors. You're too close-"

Donnelly sneered at him as she replied condescendingly. "As if you'd have it any other way, if one of your ADA' s was murdered in cold blood. Please Jack, save your hypocrisy for someone that doesn't know you as well as I do."

"It's not hypocrisy," he said stiffly. "It's concern."

Donnelly started to snap back a reply stopping suddenly, as she saw the look of genuine caring, in the dark eyes.

"Listen, we can debate this into next week," Branch said as the car slowed. "Right now we have a funeral to attend and a grieving family to think about."

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As the trio walked up the steps to St. Marks chapel, the press bombarded Branch with questions. Donnelly kept her eyes on the door of the chapel and her mind on what she would say when she met Alex Cabot's mother face to face.

They had spoken on the phone several times in the last few days, Gwen Cabot turning to Donnelly for practical help with finding a funeral home in Manhattan, getting an obituary into the _Times_, and finding a priest to perform a service she never dreamed she'd have to plan.

Before she realized it, Donnelly had lost McCoy and Branch. The reporters had both men involved in a discussion about the change of venue for the case. Donnelly looked around in confusion, tempted to go back down and give her take on the change to the reporters.

"Liz, over here!"

Donnelly turned back to the door of the chapel. She nodded at the middle aged man who stood in the door way. As distraught as he was, Captain Donald Cragen looked surprisingly dashing in his NYPD dress uniform. She followed him into the chapel and squeezed his hand.

"How are you holding up, Don?"

The tall man shrugged his shoulders.

"In AA they say take it one day at a time. Right now, I'm taking it one second at a time."

Donnelly nodded as she scanned the crowd outside the doors leading to the chapel.

"Have you spoken to her mother yet?"

"A few minutes ago. She's holding on, seems to be in shock. Elliot and Olivia are with her now. How did Zapata's arraignment go?"

Donnelly looked down at the floor as she answered.

"The feds took him before I could get him in front of a judge."

"_What_," Cragen said loud enough to cause heads to turn towards them. He took Donnelly by the arm and moved to a corner. "How did that happen, Liz? I thought Branch of all people would want this case prosecuted here?"

As Donnelly relied the explanation Branch had given her, McCoy and Branch joined them.

"So this is the thanks that one of your own gets," Cragen began angrily.

"The decision was out of my hands," Branch began.

"Since when is a murder not two blocks from a precinct house 'out of ' the DA's hands," Cragen countered. "If we can't hold on to a guy that has our freakin' DA murdered, who can we hold on to?"

Branches met Cragen's condemning gaze without wavering.

"Captain, I understand your frustration. But now is not the time or the place-"

"It never is," Cragen snapped as he left the group to find a seat in the chapel.

Branch turned to Donnelly who turned on her heel to follow Cragen, refusing to meet Branch's gaze .

"I guess someone has to be the bad guy in situation like this one."

"We all agree on who the bad guy is, Arthur," McCoy interjected. "We just don't agree on how to make him pay for what he's done."


	2. Chapter 2

Donnelly nodded at the bartender as he set down a fresh martini. After methodically swirling the thin red stick enough to saturate the large green olive with alcohol, she placed it in her mouth. After pulling the olive into her mouth, she set the stick beside its three twins.

The funeral had gone much as she had expected it to. The usual flowers from the usual branches of city and state government arrived. The usual things were said about justice, bravery, and honor by the usual people. The family expressed the usual amount of gratitude - for the kindness and patience expressed by the usual people and disbelief - at being in a situation that required the kindness and patience of those same people.

God, how she hated to be one of the 'usual' people.

When her turn had come to speak, Donnelly felt as if she were having an out of body experience. As she talked about the skill and dedication Alexandra Cabot had in her work with the Special Victims Unit and the countless lives she'd touched, Donnelly's mind flashed back to the many times the pair had disagreed and how stupid and pointless those disagreements seemed now.

"…one month unpaid suspension and you can consider that a gift," Donnelly had told her without looking up from her calendar." so you can save your arguments."

"I have no argument," Cabot had said, her tone betraying her relief.

Cabot had known she had done wrong when she manipulated the Cavanaugh boys mother into testifying against his abuser by indirectly threatening her with legal action if she didn't comply. Donnelly had known her motives, had seen it coming before Cabot herself had. She knew it was a lesson Cabot would have to learn the hard way.

Donnelly remembered how smugly she'd called Cabot on her motives for setting civil liberties back by centuries.

"…making Linda Cavanaugh choose between her right to privacy and putting her sons molester in prison, setting civil liberties back two hundred years."

"I take full responsibility for my actions," was Cabot's unapologetic response.

"Of course you do," Donnelly had countered with quiet outrage, refusing to let her young subordinate take the easy way out.

Seeing too many shades of another ADA she'd working with years before. Shades of arrogance, an indifference to the boundaries the law set. She knew those shades would eventually lead to a belief that passionate self righteousness was an excuse to believe the ends justified the means.

"You did it for the greater good, the safety of society - bull - you did it for yourself."

Donnelly could still see the look of realization on Cabot's face after the deeper meaning of her words sunk in. The disillusionment, the guilt, the regret…

"Since when did you trade in scotch for vodka?"

"Since I stopped living with a man that kept Dewar's in his desk drawer," she replied dryly as she removed her suit jacket and carefully hung on the back of her chair. "Someone needs to tell the bartender to turn the heat down."

Cragen noted the pile of swizzle sticks as he sat down beside her.

"I don't think that would help. Perrier on the rocks," he said to the bartender, handing him the sticks. "a liquid dinner isn't going to bring her back, Liz."

"I can assure you I've had more than that. I'm considering becoming a vegetarian."

"Olives don't count as one of the four food groups," Cragen countered as he reached across her to pick up the small leather bound menu.

"No wonder they made you a captain," she said smugly as she reached for the glass.

"If they thought I was really on the ball, they'd of made me a division chief by now," he said modestly.

Donnelly chuckled while she watched him empty the green bottle into the high ball glass filled with ice.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Donnie. They keep the smart ones on the front line, to make them look good enough to keep _themselves _off the front lines," she said draining the glass, as she motioned to the bartender. "I thought the wake was going to be at Flannery's. What brings a Midtown teetotaler like you into a Westside a bar and grill?

_Donnie,_ Cragen thought mildy amused. _Able to reason or not, she's three sheets to the wind. The lady needs to eat._

"After Branch made his four toast in fifteen minute, most of us decided to call it a night."

"'We'?"

"Most of the squad left with me. Even some of the DA's had enough. When I noticed you weren't around, I figured you might need a friend. You seemed pretty shaken up at the service."

Donnelly stared up at him, obviously puzzled.

"So you began a random search of the gin joints within walking distance of the St. Marks?"

"Something else for you sir," the bartender inquired as he picked up the empty bottle.

"Yeah. Liz, you willing to split an order of the seafood sampler," he asked waiting for the reluctant nod before continuing. " Good. And some more ice."

"Another martini, madam?"

Donnelly ignored Cragen's slight shake of the head.

"One more for the road. Now, we were discussing your search for incompetent bureau chiefs in the greater downtown area."

"Luckily, McCoy was on his way out when I got to the door. He told me I might find you here."

"Ah," she said making an effort not to slur her words. "If Jack McCoy still knows where to find me twenty - four seven, I'm clearly in need of a change."

Cragen let the remark slide, more interested in something she had said previously.

"Liz, I've heard you called a lot of things over the years. Incompetent isn't one of them. Losing Alex hit all of us hard, but-"

"You don't understand, Don. Alex going up against someone so dangerous. She was a sex crimes prosecutor, this case should have gone up to the Organized Crime Bureau."

"Liz, this started out as a rape/homicide. We caught the case," Cragen said, having a hunch as to were she was going. "It made sense for us to see it though."

Donnelly shook her head vigorously.

"You don't understand. When we found out Zapata was involved, Arthur wanted to hand it off to the OCB. I wouldn't hear of it. I told him this began as an SVU case, and by God it should finish as an SVU case," she said slamming her fist down on the bar hard enough that the bartender turn, looking cautiously at Cragen.

"And you were right, Liz," Cragen said firmly, as he eased the martini glass away from her line of fire, nodding at the bartender. "If OCB had taken the case the rape victim would have been forgotten in order to use Zapata to fry bigger fish. At least with Alex handling the case we had a chance-"

"Alex never should have been running that case," she hissed. "I worked in the OCB for four years - you served on the OC task force. We both know what those people are about. I should have taken the lead and had Alex second chair."

"And Alex herself never would have forgiven you if you'd done that."

Donnelly turned to see the face behind the voice, nearly falling off the bar stool.

Instinctively, a hand reached out. One arm going around Donnelly's shoulders, the other grabbing her by the waist.

"Nice catch, counselor " Cragen said approvingly.

Donnelly's face reddened as she extracted herself from Jack McCoy's grasp, desperately trying to compose herself.

_And they say New York City is a cold, impersonal place_, Donnelly thought bitterly. _Shows what **they** know. A person can't even get quietly drunk without the whole world-_

"Liz, I didn't mean to startle you," Olivia Bensen interjected uncomfortably, as she accepted the seat Cragen offered her.

"I'm fine," Donnelly said carefully sitting back down. "I just didn't expect to see either of you here tonight."

"Detective Bensen and I ended up sharing a cab after the wake," McCoy explained. "When the captain asked about you, the detective heard me mention you used to like the martini's at Baxter's. Apparently, Detective Bensen is a fan of the red chowder here, as well. We decided to stop by and see if we could get a table for dinner."

Donnelly tried not to blanch at the mention of food. Although she was willing to pacify Cragen by agreeing to eat a few shrimp, the idea of anything warm wasn't sitting well with her liquid dinner.

"I could see how awful you felt at the memorial service," Bensen continued. "We all know Alex made her own decisions. This case was no exception. She could have asked to be reassigned after she had that confrontation with Zapata during the meeting with his lawyer. She didn't."

"What can I get the two of you this evening," the bartender asked while he sat the sampler platter down.

Bensen ordered a glass of merlot and listened as the bartender and McCoy discussed scotch and appetizers.

She turned her gaze away from Donnelly, afraid the woman would see the guilt in her eyes.

It had been difficult enough for her and Elliot Stabler to keep up the charade all afternoon, with Cabot's family and friends. The wake had been even worse.

It was one thing to lie to people who had never met you, who would have no way of reading your body language. It was entirely _another_ to lie to people that had become closer than family, to some that had, on more than one occasion, saved your own life.

When Bensen had hailed that cab, her only desire had been to go home and get quietly drunk in the privacy of her apartment, where she could justify the fact that she had lied to protect not only Cabot's mother, but Alexandra Cabot herself.

She knew Cabot had taken a huge risk forcing the feds to let Bensen and Stabler in on the fact she was very much alive and in the hands of federal agents. Bensen had been relieved and touched when Cabot had revealed herself to them. Cabot knew the pair would blame themselves for her death, for being unable to protect her, when they were just feet away from her when the shots rang out. The fact Cabot once again put her safety at risk, after such a close brush with death just to ease their minds, amazed the detective. She was determined not to let Cabot down by betraying that trust.

Then she'd heard the end of a conversation between McCoy and Cragen while she was flagging a cab down.

Both men had noticed how solemn Donnelly had been at the service. Bensen had noticed as well. She'd also noticed Donnelly's absence at the wake that followed.

When Cragen told McCoy he thought Donnelly was holding herself responsible, Bensen had felt a strong pang of guilt resurface. After the cab stopped and McCoy opened the door for her, asking her if she would mind sharing a cab up town, she took to opportunity to press him further about Donnelly.

He had agreed with Cragen, seeming to have some insight into the bureau chief. He himself had lost an assistant years ago, he had told Bensen. Although the circumstances were different, he sympathized with Donnelly's concerns.

It was that concern that made Bensen not only accept the dinner invitation the well known prosecutor extended, but also made her suggest going to Baxter's for the meal.

"Olivia, the calamari's excellent. You should try it," Donnelly was saying. "I remember how much you and Alex enjoyed it that time you two pulled that all nighter trying to get all the ducks in a row on the Mallory case."

Bensen smiled at the memory, as she took a piece from the platter.

"I remember…I figured we'd order Chinese or deli and Alex insisted on all that all night sushi place in Queens. Sweet talked the manager into sending the delivery kid out to Hogan Place."

Donnelly nodded.

"Alex had prosecuted the guy that raped the manager's niece," Donnelly explained. "It was one of her first cases after I took over the bureau. I remember how she impulsively promised the man she'd get justice for his niece. Forget the fact the forensic evidence was almost non existent. Boy, did I put her through the paces for that one…,"Donnelly said thoughtfully, she voice faltering, as she impatiently wiped her eyes.

"I remember that case," Cragen remarked. "In the eleventh hour Munch and Finn turned up a witness…"

"Excuse me," Donnelly mumbled as she abruptly strode towards the ladies room.

Before the two men could respond, Bensen was right behind her.

"So, ah Jack," Cragen said seizing the opportunity to speak to the EADA privately. "is there any real chance of getting Zapata back here for trial?"

McCoy set his drink down as he shook his head.

"It's not often that Arthur Branch says something is out of his hands, captain. When he says it, he means it."

Cragen nodded, as the other man continued

"About Liz…how much has she had to drink?"

Cragen frowned, unsure as to the wisdom in answering the question honestly.

"As much as you'd expect in her present state of mind. Where are you going with this counselor?"

"I asked the matre de for a table for four, figuring between the three of us, we could get Liz to at least consider dinner," he said bluntly. "But, judging from what I've seen, I'm not sure she get through the appetizer without passing out."


	3. Chapter 3

"Liz," Bensen called out tentatively.

Bensen had known the usually unflappable bureau chief wasn't one to appreciate being fussed over, but the detective had feared the worst when the other woman and suddenly bolted for the bathroom.

"Liz, are you all right?"

After a few more moments of silence, Bensen was about to risk Donnelly's wrath and open the stall door, when she heard nearly inaudible sob.

When Bensen peered through the door, she found Donnelly sitting on the lid of the toilet, what remained of her eye make up, streaming down her cheeks.

Donnelly looked up at the detective, too distraught even attempt to cover.

Bensen put her arms around her, as tears came to her eyes, as well. The two women wordlessly held each other. Donnelly crying for the loss of Alex Cabot. Bensen crying tears of relief and guilt until a tentative tap on the bathroom door jarred them back into reality.

"Liv? Liz, everything okay in there?"

The two women jumped, looking at each other, startled. Bensen found her voice first, as Donnelly began to wipe her tear stained face.

"Everything's fine, captain."

"Our table is ready. Unless you two -"

"No, we'll join you in a minute," Donnelly added. "You and Jack go on ahead. We'll be right out."

"Better?"

Donnelly nodded as she joined Bensen in front of the mirror.

"If Alex could see me now, she'd be mortified," Donnelly said as she splashed water on her face. "I had her convinced I didn't even have tear ducts."

Bensen chuckled as she offered Donnelly her purse.

"I thought you might need this. Liz, Alex knew you had a heart," Bensen said knowingly. "especially after the Brice case."

"Thanks," Donnelly said grimancing. "That case was a fluke. Momentary lapse. Besides, if I'd listened to Alex, maybe Jeremy Brice would have-"

"Come on Liz. Could have, would have, should have.. .you know we can't do what we do and second guess ourselves. We'd never convict anybody. Then where would the victims be?"

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"…how could he expect anything less," McCoy was asking Cragen as Bensen joined them in the dining room. "If you feel compelled to punch out a public official, it's best to do it away from the TV camera's."

Cragen nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah, can't argue with that counselor," Cragen admitted. "At least it didn't take the _whole_ decade for Mikey to come in from the cold."

"How is the major case squad agreeing with Detective Logan?"

Before Cragen could reply Olivia Bensen set her purse down on the table. The two men rose, McCoy reaching over to pull out the chair beside him for her. Bensen smiled up at him appreciatively as she sat.

"How's she doing," Cragen asked.

"She's holding her own," Bensen replied. "She stopped by the bar to pay her tab and asked me to thank you both for your concern and to tell the captain she'd see him when she comes down to the precinct to introduce the our ADA."

Cragen set his napkin on the table, both men momentarily startled.

"Liv are you sure it's a good idea for Liz to be walking the streets.She doesn't even have her coat and I mean, she's had, "Cragen began.

"Don't worry. She picked up her overcoat from the coat check room before she left. I put her in a cab. She should make it home with out any problem."

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It was just past midnight when the cab pulled in front of Liz Donnelly's two story colonial home. After handing the cabby a twenty, Donnelly strode swiftly towards her front door, slowing suddenly as she noticed the figure, rising from the steps of her front porch. A look of confused caution changed to one of recognition as she stopped in front of the tall figure in the trench coat.

"How long have you been sitting there, Don?"

Now it was Cragen's turn to look embarrassed. After Bensen had told him of Donnelly's departure, Cragen had excused him self to make sure the less than sober EADA had indeed made it safely home. Cragen's reason for leaving had been two fold: He didn't relish being a third wheel in McCoy and Bensen's dinner plans. He was well aware of McCoy's reputation with women, as well as the fact a evening with the eligible bachelor might be a much need distraction for his detective after the events of the day, as well as after pulling heavier than usual overtime with her very married partner.

Cragen also felt compelled to see for himself that Donnelly really was in shape to be left on her own.

He had planned on just a quick stop by her place - remembering the way from the time she had been the DA on call when Cabot had been on vacation. What he hadn't planned on a two and a half hour wait for Donnelly to show up.

Cragen considered his answer before replying. Knowing Donnelly would probably have occasion to talk to Bensen about the evening in the near future, Cragen kept the half truth vague.

"Not long. Didn't want to intrude on Olivia and her dinner date, so I grabbed a quick bite down the street from Baxter's. Decided to walk off dinner and found myself out…"

Donnelly leaned back on the porch railing and studied the captain with amused skepticism.

"You walked from Midtown to Chelsea? With that," she asked with amusement, as she pointed at her suit jacket. "That's at least a sixty minute walk."

Cragen pursed his lips together, meeting her gaze.

"I have a meeting with Arthur Branch at eight thirty. I figured I could drop it off on my way upstairs. Besides, at my age walking is the safest way to keep fit for the NYPD physical. Especially with the amount of time I spend behind a desk."

Donnelly snickered as she picked up the jacket, house key in hand.

"That's your story?"

Cragen nodded smiling innocently.

"And I'm sticking to it. "

Shaking her head, Donnelly flipped the light switch up as Cragen followed her into the house. After going through the usual rituals - coats placed on the rack by the door, preparing a pot of coffee, joining Cragen in the living room after flipping on the gas fireplace - Donnelly looked at him inquiringly.

"Not going to ask?"

Cragen looked thoughtfully into the mug of coffee. Although he was curious, Cragen could see the judge seemed to be a far cry from the enebreated state she had been in, a few hours before. Cragen looked around the tastefully furnished room, then back at his hostess.

"And have you accuse me of confusing your living room with an interrogation cell? Come on counselor, you know I'm smarter than that."

Donnelly leaned back on the sofa, the sound of her laughter, surprising Cragen. The captain pondered the musical sound realizing, while he the sound of the prosecutor's chuckle was as framiliar as his own, this was the first time he had heard Liz Donnelly truly laugh. It was a sound he found himself hoping to hear more often.

"Besides,"he continued. "even if I wasn't a police officier, it's easy to see that wherever you went, seems to have had a positive effect on you. They say confesions good for the soul, so maybe…"

Donnelly had worked with Cragen long enough to be only mildly surprised at how close to home his guess had been.

"Close but no cigar, captain. After Olivia went back inside, I sent the cabby away and took a walk to clear my head."

Cragen nodded, his fears confirmed. He resisted the urge to point out the dangers of a intoxicated woman walking around Manhattan alone at night, as Donnelly continued to speak.

"Something Olivia said got me thinking about some of the victims Alex and I dealt with. Eventually I hailed another cab and ended up back at Hogan Place."

Cragen nodded in understanding. Her attachement to her office was a kin to his own. Cragen knew there had been many a time when he had, not only returned to the office in times of personal stress, but rolled out the roll away bed he kept in the corner of his office and stayed the night.

Remembering the twenty degree weather outside, Cragen silently gave thanks Donnelly had chosen to return home before the frost bite had set in on Cragen.

Donnelly paused to take a sip of her coffee. As she thought about the amount of walking she had done, she automatically slipped off her pumps.

"Olivia does have a way of making a person stop and think,"Cragen commented. "That's what makes her so good with our victims. So you're back in your office?"

"Do you remember the Brice case?"

Cragen nodded, recalling the shy awkward boy who had been manipulated by a younger, more deadly school mate into covering up the murder of a young woman. The case had been a particularly difficult. It had also been vexing for Cabot and Donnelly at trial.

At first placing them at odds over which defendant was indeed the mastermind. Once Donnelly had discovered, she herself had been manipulated by Brice's co - defendant, she had bent the rules and turned the tables on the other boy. Causing the boy in incriminate himself on the stand, giving her grounds to recommend letiancy during the sentencing of the Brice boy.

"Well, to make a long story short, I knew what a difference Alex had made when she dug deep enough to figure out who the real mastermind was in that case. I pulled the file and on impulse tried the mother's number. Amazingly, she still has the same phone number.

"Mrs. Brice said Jeremy has come along in the time he's been in the juvenile facility. Much more self confidence, much more his own person.," Donnelly paused, shaking her head in amazement. "Mrs. Brice said her son's going to prison had been a turning point in his life. That it forced him to confront his own insecurities and take responsibility for himself. Don, she _thanked _me for being so tough on him on the stand."

Cragen laughed at the look of bewilderment on her face, causing her to laugh as well.

"I figured the woman thought I was evil in carnate after I made her kid cry on the stand. I called her because I thought I she should know how Alex had fought for him…and she tells me how grateful she is that I -"

"It's been one hell of a night for you, hasn't it counsleor,"Cragen stretching a arm across the back of the sofa. "Hard to keep viewing yourself as incompetent when you have a perp's mother thinking you walk on water."

"Maybe I was being a litlle self indulgent when I said that. I'm an adequate attorney-"

Cragen sputtered, leaning closer as he gave her a 'are you nuts' look.

"Fine,"she said smugly. "I'm a better prosecutor than Jack McCoy on his best day."

Cragen roared with laughter, eventually leaning back as fatigue from what was becoming a 18 hour day, began to catch up with him.

"Never any middle ground with you, is there Liz?"

"No room for grey in the black and white world we live in, is there Don,"she countered smugly with a wicked smile, as she inadvertently leaned back into the arm resting on the sofa back.

Cragen smiled back as he looked into the dark eyes that seemed seemed to dance with amusement. Before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, Cragen implusively pulled her to him. Not feeling any resistance he drew her close, as he kissed her tenderly on the lips.

Cragen wasn't sure what startled him more. The fact he found himself initiating a kiss that was rapidly growing passionate with a woman he'd thought of for years as a friend and colleague, or the fact that the woman seemed not only to anticipate it, but seemed to be enjoying it every bit as much as he was.

When Donnelly opened her eyes, Cragen was staring down at her with a look of wonder on his weary face. She reached up to caress the back of his balding head waiting for him to say what she sensed they were both thinking.

"Wow,"the captain said at last.

Cragen found himself wondering how they had managed to avoid this situation for so long, as he ran a finger along the lips that still tingled from their kiss.

Donnelly chuckled at Cragen's awkwardness. The captain's manner was something that endeared him to those around him, Donnelly included. What Don Cragen lacked in polish he made up in honesty. Simple, straight forward honesty, that was balanced with a quiet wit, that made Cragen a breath of fresh air when compared to other men.

"Care to elaborate on that, captain?"

"I'm not sure what to say, counselor," Cragen lied. He knew exactly what he wanted to say...and do. He just wasn't sure how wise either action would be.

Cragen knew the kind of man Liz Donnelly had been attracted to in the past. The last one Cabot had mentioned her boss seeing was a judge from the state supreme court, her ex husband was another high powered prosecutor…

"All right, then I'll say it,"Donnelly said candidly. "Wow - this could mushroom into a real freckin' mess."

Cragen chuckled this time, at a impersonation of himself that bested even Stabler's rendition.

"Now I know how you know exactly what to say to break a suspect, Liz. You can read minds,"Cragen teased.

Donnelly pressed a finger to his lips.

"You're on to me, Don. Just don't tell Casey Novak that."

Cragen searched his mind, looking puzzled.

"Who?"

"The your new ADA. Can't have the new kid knowing my reputation is based on smoke and mirrors…and mind reading."

"I'll keep your super powers to myself," Cragen said with a sigh, as he stood. "I should probably head out."

Donnelly looked up at him, surprised at the pang of disappointment she felt.

"Maybe you better call a cab, unless you plan on another physical fitness jaunt. It's after midnight. You won't be able to hail a cab until you get to Broadway."

Cragen nodded looking around for the phone.

"Telephone's in the study,"she said as she stood. "I'll show you the way."

Knowing she was the prosecutor on call that night, she wasn't surprised when the phone began to ring. She opened the double doors, leading to the room lined with bookcases.

"Hello."

Cragen looked studied the pictures a top one of the shelves, as Donnelly continued the phone call. The photo's were mostly of Donnelly's daughter. The pictures showed the increasing resemblance the young woman had to her mother, as the photo's became more recent.

Cragen's glance shifted to the assortment of magazines piled up at the end of the bookcase. He reached down and flipped through part of the pile. Smiling at the odd assortment of quilting, cooking, and fashion publications mixed in with the law journals and copies of _Ms_. A single copy of _Motorcycle Trends_, dated January of 1982, stuck out like a sore thumb.

Hearing her tone move from placid to tense, Cragen focused back on her end of the conversation.

"…I'm fine…I know, I went back to the office first… Actually, I do mind… It's late and I'm not alone… Because it's none of your business … Don't you have a detective - or some assistant - to harass at this hour,"she said flushing slightly as Cragen started to smile. "… I know, and I honestly appreciate that concern... I'll see you in the morning….Goodnight."

"Something's never change, do they Liz? Even after the divorce, he stills cares."

"You know he's always had a sense of duty, much like yourself,"she said quietly.

Cragen did a double take, stunned by the comparison of himself to Jack McCoy.

"Liz, I came here because I was worried about you. If you think that I kissed you out of some faternal sense of duty, either you're nuts or I've completely lost my touch."

Donnelly shrugged her shoulders skeptically as she leaned back on the desk meeting his stare.

"Until I have more evidence to the contray, I'm going to assert that my sanity is in tact. As for your touch, I need more evidence before I can make any kind of judgment."

Cragen eyes widened.

"You know how office romances can go - this really could turn into a frecking mess, Liz. Are you saying you're willing to risk it?"

Donnelly looked down at the floor as she shiffled her bare feet.

"Are you saying you wouldn't be interested, if I was,"she asked coyly.

Cragen rolled his eyes in dismay as he lifted her chin.

"Geez, Liz if you think that, you really _are_ nuts."

With that, he found her lips once more, leaving no doubt in her mind of his answer.


End file.
